Solutions
by aSimplePasserby
Summary: Sometimes, all it takes is one conversation to find the solution; that missing puzzle piece you've had all along that was just hiding. All it takes is one thing, one time, one person. Sometimes, all it takes is a brother to put you back together again.


The castle halls rang with the sound of a scream, and the seventeen-year-old High King awoke with a start from his light sleep; a careful doze trained by years of combat. Immediately alert, Peter knew within a moment what had awaken him, and, pulling on a thick robe, he quickly burst out of his room and across the hall to his brother's abode. He found the dark-haired form tossing about on the large bed, horribly tangled in his white sheets, exposed as he'd kicked the comforter off some time ago. His face was twisted into a pained grimace, a tortured mixing of physical and mental pain. Peter swiftly but quietly shut the heavy oak door he'd entered and practically flew to the bedside, sitting on it and reaching for Edmund's shoulder with only the flash of an agonized wince crossing his magnificent features. His brother didn't wake immediately, crying out again and tossing his sweat-soaked head into the pillow. Peter pressed his lips together, fighting back a sudden tightness in his throat.

"Come on, Ed… Wake up. It's just a dream." Still, his younger sibling didn't acknowledge him, simply groaning and turning away from Peter's longing reach.

With a choked sigh, the older brother resorted to other measures. Scooting further onto the bed, he leaned over and grabbed both of Edmund's shoulders, leaning in close so as to speak more quietly, closer to the younger boy's ear.

"Ed… please, wake up. I'm right here, right with you. You're safe. C'mon, get up, you lout."

Finally, Edmund's eyes snapped open, and when he saw Peter's face uncomfortably close to his own, he pulled away, those same eyes wild with fright and desperation. Peter sat back slightly, having anticipated the reaction. Expecting it didn't make it any less heart wrenching, though. The younger brother pushed himself back against the headboard, chest heaving for a few moments before he realized where he was. And who was with him.

"… Peter…"

"Yeah, Ed. Right here. So, what was it about this time?"

Edmund knew he was under no pressure to talk, but really, he was just tired. Tired of all of this. Surprising his brother, he knew, Edmund leaned forward into Peter's chest, closing his eyes.

"What do you think?"

"Her?" Came the whispered inquiry, voice still wary. Every time she was mentioned, all Peter could see was her evil stare; her smugness after she'd shoved her wand into Ed's gut, and Edmund himself, gasping for breath on the ground. But Edmund shook his head, the movement against his chest jostling Peter out of his morbid thoughts. "No? What, then?"

Edmund hesitated, taking a breath. "You."

"Me?" The arms already tight on Edmund's shoulder loosened a bit.

"Yes, you. It wasn't even… I mean, it was just… last week."

_Oh. _Last week, the castle had been attacked, marched on by invaders from the far North. During the course of their mostly defensive battle, Peter had gotten into a one-on-one with the commander of the charge. For the most part, he'd been going great but then… Edmund had called to him, and he turned his head for just a moment, leaving himself open. And the commander had taken advantage of that, striking hard and fast. Peter had realized what was happening, but it had been too late. He'd managed to dodge to the side, thereby getting caught in the leg as opposed to his vulnerable torso. It wasn't even a horribly bad wound, but Peter knew Edmund blamed himself for it. And today Peter had gotten out of the infirmary and been limping around. Great. He should've known…

"Ah, Ed. You can't do this. You know very well that wasn't your fault."

"But it was, Peter. Just because you're my brother doesn't mean you can avoid or destroy the truth. It _was _my fault. _I _distracted you. And just because it wasn't bad this time, doesn't mean it won't be next! What if I do the same thing during a combat, and it gets you killed? What if-"

Peter shushed Edmund with a finger to his lips and a tightening of his arms. "Ed, stop. Listen to me. Really, truly, honestly, no one blames you for what happened. _I _don't blame you, and no matter what you may think, it wasn't your fault. Besides, even if you still think it was-which it _wasn't_-that doesn't matter now. You've learned your lesson, right? So, please don't go fretting about this. After all… you've got to get your beauty sleep." This last part was said with a mischievous smile, and Edmund pulled away, scowling. Peter laughed. "Oh, yes, sorry, Ed. I didn't want to say anything, but… we all know you need it."

The older brother quickly jumped away as a pillow flew towards his head. Grinning, he dove behind a large chair, guarding himself from anymore stuffed flying objects. A few more went by before the flow ceased, and Peter suspected his brother had run out of them. Cautiously, he slid to the side, slowly sticking his face around the chair… and promptly getting pegged by one of the previously-thought-to-be-nonexistent leftover pillows.

"Oh, my dear brother, I know you too well," Edmund needled from the safety of his bed. "You know, you've always fallen for that one."

"So I have," Peter agreed, chuckling. "So I have." He pulled the same chair he'd been hiding behind over beside the bed and settling into it. "But I really wasn't kidding, Ed. While it may not be for beauty, you really do need sleep."

"So, what?" Edmund started to question, though he already knew the answer. "Are you just going to watch me sleep? What a creeper." He grumbled, but already, he was turning over into his bed, sighing deeply as Peter carefully draped the comforter back over his baby brother's thin shoulders.

He sat back in his armchair, taking up a protective vigil. He knew there'd be no more sleep for him that night, and he was perfectly fine with this. Keeping Edmund safe-whether literally or not-was his first job. Sometimes, like this, it was his only job. As the dark-haired king finally fell prey to his subconscious-much more peacefully now-Peter smiled. He stayed there the rest of the night, simply watching and thinking. In the years since they'd been crowned rulers, a lot had happened. But there'd been one-no, two-constants. The first? Aslan. Whether he was physically at the castle or not, the presence was always there. The second? Family. When choosing between his own life or his siblings, Peter always chose the latter. And they all knew it, too. Which was why he was feared for the most. But really? When he compared, there was no question. He simply loved his family too much to _not _have to choose them over himself.

With these thoughts in his head, he fixed himself more comfortably into his chair, sending a loving gaze to the bed. He sat like that the rest of the night.

When the first hints of morning began peeking into the window at the side of Edmund's room, Peter began rising, but quickly aborted that plan as he discovered the giant cramp in his thigh, right at the sight of his wound. He dropped back into the plush chair, panting heavily as his muscles twisted. Oh, he really shouldn't have stayed in that position for so long. He tried once more to get up-he didn't want to wake Edmund, after all-but his attempt was in vain. His leg buckled beneath him practically before he'd put any weight on it, and Peter went down with a gasp, vision disappearing in a blizzard of black spots. When all of them had cleared away, it left Peter with a clear view of his brother's stern face, leaning over him in a worry.

"Ed? When…?"

"When you started hurting yourself, idiot. Don't try to move. I'll get Lagran." He was their resident head leader of the moment. "Just… stay there."

"Wait." Peter caught Edmund's sleeve before the other boy could leave. "Don't think I missed that guilty look you gave me. Ed, we talked about this."

"Yeah, we did, and we're good. Now _stay put._" But Peter caught him again, causing the younger boy to shoot him an annoyed glare. "What?"

"Ed, don't get him. Please. It's just a cramp-he can't do anything, anyways."

Edmund frowned, but obeyed his brother's wishes, retreating to directly in front of Peter, where he knelt. Sharp eyes beneath a knitted brow surveyed Peter's hand, clasped over his left thigh, and gently, he removed the extremity.

"Ed, what-?"

"Shut up."

Carefully, and with a glance up to Peter's face every few seconds, Edmund began massaging the limb. He nearly stopped when Peter didn't relax, but tensed up, going pale. When he froze, though, Peter looked down at him, shaking his head.

"Sorry. No, it's helping. Keep going."

Still unsure, but believing Peter, Edmund did so, digging in deeper once the older boy actually started to loosen up. They stayed like that for more than a few minutes, and eventually the cramp was nothing but a memory. Peter grinned.

"Where'd you learn that, Ed? You've been hanging around the centaurs again, haven't you?"

Edmund didn't reply, and when Peter looked down, he was surprised to see his brother's face turned away from him, towards the ground. He frowned, reaching out a hand to put under Edmund's chin and gently lift it up.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

Edmund's lip quivered just slightly. "I know you trust me, Peter. I _know _you do, more than anything, and that is exactly my problem. I'm not dependable, and I don't know why or how you even _could_ trust me, after all that I've done!" He stood suddenly, striding to the large window and pacing.

But Peter quickly followed him, not even wincing when a twinge ran through his leg, and stepped in the Edmund's path. The other boy tried to walk around him, but Peter just turned and grabbed both of his shoulders in a tight grasp, pulling him close.

"Edmund Pevensie," he began sternly, voice surprisingly thick. "Don't you ever mention that again. Yes, I do trust you, and with good reason. Please, Ed," he quickly added when his brother began turning away. "Listen. I don't know why you're so hard on yourself. Sure, you've made mistakes, but who hasn't? All I know is that you're my brother, and you have my back, no matter what. It all boils down to one thing, one thing that makes everything else useless, anyway. I will _never stop_ trusting you, because you're family, and I _love _you, Ed. Why can't you seem to get that?"

Within the span of a second, Edmund's eyes had filled and spilled over, and Peter pulled him into a fierce embrace. With the sunshine dashing through the room and the seas just faintly breaking on the rocks outside, Edmund finally accepted it.

"I'm sorry, Pete…"

"Don't be, Ed. Don't be."

It was funny, in a good way, because Peter had heard Edmund's sobs much more than he'd have liked to in his life, and they always tore his heart apart. But now, as they stood together, just two brothers reveling in life, and he heard those sobs, he could just… feel something different. This time, it wasn't the pain of something being ripped out of his little brother. It wasn't his soul being torn to shreds. This time, it was the good pain, of something being put back in. The sting of the needle sewing those tatters back together-_finally_. And it made Peter's own eyes warm. Because all he'd ever needed for his own sustenance was his family to be happy. So perhaps it wasn't only Edmund who was complete today.

A quiet, choked giggle from the door broke the two brothers apart, quickly wiping their cheeks. Susan soon appeared in the entrance, cheeks flushed. Her voice was thick when she spoke.

"What, you two have some revival meeting and we're not a part of it?"

Lucy materialized beside her, hand on her hip. "We're hurt." And yet her grin belied the words. Without another sound, the two sisters came over and squeezed their put-back-together sibling, laughing. The four embraced together, and only separated when another timid sound rose above their joyful babbling. A meek clearing of the throat.

They turned together to see Mr. Tumnus standing there somewhat awkwardly, faint blush on his hairy cheeks, hooves shuffling.

"Why, what is it, Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy questioned brightly, and the fawn smiled at her.

"I, ah, was just coming to tell you all that breakfast is ready."

The sound of bright laughter rang through the castle halls as all four rulers traversed through them together.


End file.
